


Insensible

by seungsols



Series: Red Roses, Broken Hearts [4]
Category: SEVENTEEN (Band)
Genre: Angst, Light Angst, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-11-20
Updated: 2015-11-20
Packaged: 2018-05-02 12:38:36
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,421
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5248547
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/seungsols/pseuds/seungsols
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Junhui regrets going through with the break-up and Minghao spends every moment waiting and hoping that this is all a dream.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Insensible

He was running straight.

Junhui wasn’t sure how long it’s been, but his legs kept moving quickly, one in front of the other. His heart was pounding, telling, screaming, for him to stop and give himself a rest. He ignored the cries of his heart as he would never listen to it ever again.

It was as if the heavens were also crying out to him, flooding tears with loud roars upon him, but he didn’t give in then either. His mind was racing fast, if not faster, than he was in the physical. 

He regrets it. Regrets everything. 

All those words, if he could, would be taken back. Every syllable that left his mouth, every single loosely structured and said sentence should have taken a one-eighty and just crawled back where they came from. It would have been less painful for the two parties.

He finally stopped after what he believed to be twenty minutes. His mouth gaping open, gasping for air, feeling a bit dry, as if he wanted something out of him to come out. Nothing did.

Hands on knees, bending towards the concrete, he was drenched in that plaid shirt he threw on over his blank undershirt. The yellow one. It wasn’t his favourite colour, but it was someone else’s. He wasn’t too fond of it, in fact, he would have loved to leave it behind when it first fell off of his body as he dashed out through the front door. But he didn’t.

It must have been five minutes in when he realized the rain started to pour heavier. He looked at the skies, weakly as water splashed onto his temples and made it difficult to see.

His gaze said it all, but nature didn’t seem to listen to him. That’s okay, he thought. He wouldn’t listen to himself either. After what had happened, he wouldn’t blame anyone if they turned a shoulder when he spoke. He deserved it, at the least.

Water continued down from the skies as Junhui continued down the pavement. The clouds were growing darker, as if they were getting madder at him. He believed they had every right to be upset with him.

Honestly, he wasn’t even sure if what he was doing was worth all this running. But he kept going, he might as well. He was never the type to put his efforts to waste. The horizon seemed far, and so did the destination, but this wouldn’t be the first time his senses deceived him.

–

He was laying down.

Minghao believes it’s night seven of being single but he doesn’t want to agree with his mind, it always caused him more trouble than he was used to. 

Another tear fell from his eye, streaming down his cheek and down his neck to his pillow. It wasn’t the first, nor would it be the last. It wasn’t a special tear, nor was Minghao a special somebody to someone anymore.

Everything meant nothing. And being nothing meant everything.

His left shoulder rested on the mattress as his back was growing numb. Another tear fell, dripping down towards his nose, sliding over it, and falling onto his pillow. The damp pillow. The stupid damp pillow he’s been resting on every single night. 

And every single night meant the same thing. 

It wasn’t like he could control his tears. He barely had control over his body, or at least that’s what his mind was telling him. His stomach nudged him to eat, but his mind kept telling him that the breath of air was enough to sustain him. The limbs of his body tried to shake him out of bed, but his mind was too shaken to even think about it.

He wasn’t himself, body and mind unable to cooperate. Minghao believed this was normal though. This wouldn’t be the first time he saw two powerful and well-connected pieces feud a countless number of times.

However, he someone found himself sitting on the bed. His sleeves cleaned the remaining streams upon his cheeks that were once covered in kisses and laughs.

He was arguing with himself once again. The struggle for dominance continued as his mind kept manipulating himself to say that his body needed to sit up straight when his body kept trying to pull him down and back onto the mattress.

His feet started to move as well, probably from the work of his mind, and he went towards the closet which his hands had opened in front of his red eyes.

There was an array of clothing displayed, but half of them weren’t his, nor were they ever going to be his.

Whatever his mind was scheming when he started dressing himself up for the storm that appeared to be coming towards his house was beyond his understanding, but he felt like nothing was to be understood anymore.

One thing that stood out in his mind was this tiny little thought of a knock at his door. He expected nobody to run up to his house and knock. His parents had access to the house, the clinging of keys meant they had no reason to hit the door. Relatives and friends all knew his number and could quickly dial him up to invite them inside. But why was his mind hung up on knocking?

–

Just as Junhui thought it was impossible, the house stood in front of him. Just with a gaze, he immediately wanted to turn back and just use what was left in his legs to make his way back home.

But where was home? Home wasn’t where he slept and ate and spent time with his family. It certainly wasn’t where he did his daily routine of washing his face, brushing his teeth, bathing his skin, nor walking around in his pajamas. That wasn’t home, as it was his parent’s house.

His home was broken, torn up, burned to the ground by those intractable words. Those stupid little words destroyed everything he had once known and loved.

The stairs creaked when walking upon them, as they usually did. But they seemed to have hiss at him, warning him to leave and never come back.

Ignoring them was easy though, the drops of water around Junhui made it easy to forget the floorboards. But standing at the door proved to be the biggest task.

It was higher than he had remembered. Were they always painted in what seemed to be black satin? Why did the handle seem so much bigger than his hand as he gripped onto it. The door seemed to be mocking him, his hands sweating as he grew more anxious.

He let go, fists forming and starting meeting the door’s body repeatedly.

–

He closed the door, waving to the driver before handing him the crumpled up bills in his pocket as his gratuity.

Umbrella in hand, he noticed how the storm grew heavier, like the weight in his heart that seemed to make taking every step harder than the last. The shelter above him seemed to make everything as heavy as lead, making him almost lose his balance.

He tilted the umbrella, just enough to take a peak of the white doorway in front of him. It seemed a bit duller than usual today, but then again, everything he seemed to see just gave off a dreary feel to him. Maybe his whole life was just dreary now.

It was intimidating, as if the barrier between him and the inside walls were mocking him and he lack of confidence. His legs began to shake, initiating that his body had probably started to dominate his mind. Minghao gripped onto the handle tighter, staring blankly at the door.

After taking a deep breath his knuckles brushed the painted surface before they lightly kissed it. The lightness grew heavier, palms charging towards the front, umbrella now laying on the ground.

Just as the rain started to pour, so did his heart. His mouth faintly let out a weak voice. “J-Junhui…”

–

“Minghao!” Junhui shouted, blinded by his own weeping. After one last hit, his forehead leaned against the door. His hands laid on the door, as if he was trying to force it open, as if it was his last hope at setting everything right, taking everything back, taking Minghao back into his arms.

Alas, his arms gave out as did his spirits. Lifting his head up, he was speechless, unable to comprehend what was happening. All he knew was he had no way to get back home.


End file.
